


Street Light

by Jenny_Starseed



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 11:29:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/939490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenny_Starseed/pseuds/Jenny_Starseed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morse draped his coat over Thursday, watching and waiting for the ambulance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Street Light

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an anon on tumblr who wanted a fic where Morse was comforting a hurt Thursday.

Thursday woke to the sight of a shiny pair of black oxford shoes. He winced. The back of his head throbbed with a pulsing pain. He tried to get up, but the pain in his head made it difficult to tell which way was up. A warm hand prevented him from getting up.   
“Don’t move sir.”

Thursday closed his eyes. The street light was too bright and the ground was much too cold and wet. He would need a minute. Maybe five. His mind was blanked out by the discomfort and pain but slowly, he remembered how he ended up unconscious in the middle of a deserted street in the middle of the night. He was chasing after a suspect until someone hit him at the back of his head and everything went black. 

Slowly, he the pain seemed to ebb and fade, leaving room for his senses to interpret the scene around him. There was a faint sound of an ambulance in the distance. Someone had draped something over him. It had the faint smell of beer and cigarettes. 

He opened his eyes and found Morse crouching over him. It was Morse’s coat that was covering him. It gave him a little warmth, but not much. Morse pulled the coat closer to his neck, not unlike how his gran would when he had a fever. Morse’s hand lingered on his shoulder as he turned his head to look to see if the ambulance was coming soon. 

The street light created stark shadows on Morse’s grim face, like something out of an American crime film he’s taken Win to see when they were first dating. Highlighting the set line of his mouth, the furrowing of his brows, making Morse look much older and fiercer than the deferential lad Thursday was used to. There was something else in his expression and the way Morse positioned himself over Thursday…it was almost protective. 

“U’m fine, Morse,” croaked out Thursday, his mouth feeling like it was just swabbed by cotton. 

“Just stay down, sir,” said Morse, turning his attention back to him. The furrowed brow and the tight lips softened revealing a hint of the barely concealed feeling of worry and fear that Morse must be feeling. 

The pain was returning again and it was easier to close his eyes. Out in the darkness somewhere, Morse was telling him he would be alright. The ambulance will be here soon. 

Thursday wasn’t as worried as Morse was, who was repeating these hollow assurances, not knowing who they were meant for: himself or Thursday. But it will be ok. His dear lad will make sure of it.


End file.
